


When Jongin Met Kyungsoo

by kim_jignog



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Romance, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-21 14:38:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7391176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kim_jignog/pseuds/kim_jignog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyungsoo and Jongin reunite at a bookstore ten years after their first meeting, and in the company of their respective best friends, Chanyeol and Baekhyun, attempt to stay friends without sex becoming an issue between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One (2006)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: plot belongs to my homegirl Nora Ephron. Lord knows i'm not profiting from this in any way. please support the movie (after you've read this if you haven't seen it before)!

Luhan tangles his fingers in Kyungsoo’s hair as the younger kisses him deeper, savoring the feeling of the shorter man’s arms around his waist and trying to memorize the taste of his tongue. The sun shines brightly over the University of Chicago, birds chirping and students laughing around them— all to which the couple is oblivious as they cling to one another. 

“I love you,” Luhan breathes when Kyungsoo finally pulls back for a moment, eyes glittering with emotion as he gazes into his boyfriend’s. The look on Kyungsoo’s face immediately softens some more as he gently cradles Luhan’s face in his hands.

“I love  _you_.”

They’re still making out when Jongin pulls up, parking the car on the curb beside them and smiling at the couple on the sidewalk. He patiently waits for the liplock to end, but it never does, and as much as Jongin loves Luhan, it’s a bit awkward.

“Ahem,” he politely clears his throat, a smile still on his face. They don’t hear him, and Luhan’s boyfriend looks a bit like he’s about to devour the older man’s lips whole. Jongin glances around before accidentally-on-purpose hitting the car horn with his elbow, startling the couple out their embrace.

“Oh. Hi Jongin,” Luhan grins, pulling away from Kyungsoo and bounding up to Jongin’s car. “Jongin, this is Do Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, this is Kim Jongin.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kyungsoo smiles at him, shaking Jongin’s hand through the open window.

“You want to drive the first shift?” Jongin asks amicably, flexing his fingers before resting them back on the wheel.

“No, no— you’re there already, you can start.”

Kyungsoo looks meaningfully back at Luhan, and Jongin smiles at the look in Luhan’s eyes. It’s been a while since he saw his friend this happy. 

Luhan follows behind him as Kyungsoo puts his lone duffel bag in the backseat alongside Jongin’s small mountain of suitcases. “Call me?”

“I’ll call as soon as I get there.”

“Call me from the road.”

“I’ll call before that.”

They smile at each other one more time, and Kyungsoo glances back down at Luhan’s lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Kyungsoo connects their lips again, and Luhan’s arms automatically wind around his neck, clinging to each other until the sound of Jongin’s horn startles them out of it once again. 

“Sorry,” Jongin chirps from the driver’s seat, his cheeky grin not looking very sorry at all.

“I’ll call you,” Kyungsoo promises again as he gets in the front seat. Luhan returns Jongin’s wave as they pull away from the curb, smiling and watching the car until it disappears from sight.

“I have this all figured out,” Jongin says, eyeing the man beside him as Kyungsoo produces a bunch of grapes from his bag and pops one in his mouth. “It’s an eighteen hour trip, which breaks down to six shifts of three hours each. Or, alternatively, we could break it down by mileage. There’s a map on the visor; I’ve marked it to show the locations where we change shifts. You can do three hours?”

“Grape?” Kyungsoo offers, holding one up for Jongin to take. Jongin blinks, surprised by the question, but shakes his head no.

“No, I don’t like to eat between meals.”

Kyungsoo shrugs, turning to spit a seed out the window, which doesn’t happen to be down. There’s a beat of silence as Kyungsoo looks at the grape seed on the glass before looking back at Jongin.

“I’ll roll down the window.”

There’s another minute of silence as he does, save for the hollow sound of wind through the window and the faint crunch of the grapes before Kyungsoo speaks again.

“I hope this isn’t going to be one of those trips with a lot of long, awkward silences.”

“Me too,” Jongin agrees.

His words are followed by a long, awkward silence.

“Why don’t you tell me the story of your life?” Kyungsoo suggests after a few minutes, reclining in his seat and propping his knees up on the dashboard. Jongin arches an eyebrow.

“The story of my life?”

Kyungsoo shrugs. “We’ve got eighteen hours to kill before we get to New York.”

“The story of my life isn’t even going to get us out of Chicago,” Jongin laughs lightly. “I mean, nothing’s happened to me yet. That’s why I’m going to New York.”

“So something can happen to you.”

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m going to go to journalism school and become a reporter,” Jongin tells him matter-of-factly.

“So you can write about things that happen to other people.”

Jongin’s silent for a moment before replying.

“…that’s one way to look at it.”

“Suppose nothing happens to you,” Kyungsoo says, eyes on Jongin’s face as he toys with a grape in his hand. “Suppose you live there your whole life and nothing ever happens and you never meet anyone and you never become anything and you finally die one of those New York deaths where nobody even notices for two weeks until the smell drifts out into the hallway.”

Jongin looks over at him, taken aback, before looking back at the road.  _Who the hell am I stuck in this car with?_

“Luhan mentioned you had a dark side.”

“That’s what drew him to me,” Kyungsoo grins, popping the grape in his mouth. Jongin snorts.

“Your dark side?”

“Yeah, why? Don’t you have a dark side?” he teases, and after a moment’s thought, “No, you’re probably one of those cheerful people who dots his ‘i’s’ with little hearts.

Jongin’s lucid expression taints with irritation. “I have just as much of a dark side as the next person—”

“Oh really?” Kyungsoo chuckles. “When I get a new book, I always read the last page first. That way, if I die before I finish, I know how it comes out.  _That,_  my friend, is a dark side.”

“It doesn’t mean you’re deep or anything,” Jongin says defensively, now thoroughly annoyed. “I mean, I’m basically a happy person.”

“So am I,” Kyungsoo quips cheerfully.

“…and I don’t see that there’s anything wrong with that,” the younger adds after a moment. Kyungsoo spits another grape seed out the window. 

“Of course you don’t. You’re too busy being happy. Do you think about death?”

“Yes,” Jongin insists, reminding himself to keep his eyes on the road.

“Sure you do. A fleeting thought that drifts in and out of the transom of your mind. I spend hours, I spend  _days—_ ”

“—and you think this makes you a better person?” Jongin interrupts. Kyungsoo puts his hands up in mock surrender. 

“Look, when the shit comes down, I am going to be prepared and you are not; that’s all I’m saying.”

“And in the meantime, you’re going to ruin your whole life waiting for it.”

There’s another minute of silence. Jongin can faintly hear the sound of Kyungsoo’s teeth piercing the skin of another green grape.

“What are you going to do in New York?”

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo answers honestly. “I just graduated from law school, but I never really thought I was going to be a lawyer — I see it as a jumping-off point.”

“You should be a lawyer,” Jongin says without looking at him. “The kind that does wills. I think you’d be really good at explaining to people they’re going to die.”

Kyungsoo laughs aloud before spitting another grape seed out the window.

—

“He doesn’t want her to stay. That’s why he puts her on the plane,” Kyungsoo is saying some hours later. He and Jongin have switched seats, the younger now sitting in the passenger seat as Kyungsoo takes his shift driving. 

“I don’t think  _she_ wants to stay.”

“Of course she wants to stay. Wouldn’t you rather be with Humphrey Bogart than that other guy?”

“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in Casablanca married to a man who runs a bar,” Jongin informs him as he replies to a text message. “That probably sounds very snobbish to you, but I don’t.”

“You’d rather have a passionless marriage—”

“—and be the First Gentleman of Czechoslovakia—”

“—than live with the man you’ve had the greatest sex of your life with, just because he owns a bar and that’s all he does.”

Kyungsoo parks the car in front of a retro-looking diner as the late afternoon sun shines above them. “Yes, and so would any woman in her right mind. Women are more practical than we are, you know. Even Ingrid Bergman, which is why she gets on that plane at the end of the movie.”

“Oh, I understand,” Kyungsoo nods to himself as he gets out the car, and Jongin follows suit. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” Kyungsoo waves him off as he walks towards the restaurant. Jongin follows after him, scowling.

“No, what?”

“Obviously you haven’t had great sex yet,” Kyungsoo tells him as they walk in the door, then, to the hostess, “Table for two.”

“Yes I have,” Jongin insists, following Kyungsoo as he follows the hostess.

“No you’ve haven’t.”

“It just so happens that I have had plenty of good sex!”

There’s a beat of silence as the other customers in the diner pause in their eating to stare at him, the proclamation louder than he had intended. Jongin slowly looks around, willing himself not to blush as he lowers his head and slides into the seat across from Kyungsoo at the table.

“With whom?”

“What?”

“Have you had this good sex?”

Jongin gasps silently, looking at Kyungsoo as if he can’t believe he has the audacity to ask such a thing. “I’m not going to tell you that!”

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Kyungsoo shrugs, leaning back in his chair and opening the menu. Jongin pouts at him. The dull dining room chatter fills the brief silence as Kyungsoo reads over the specials.

“…Kim Junmyeon.”

“Junmyeon?” Kyungsoo snorts. “No. I’m sorry. You didn’t have great sex with  _Junmyeon_.”

“I did too,” Jongin tells him with a smile as he opens his own menu.

“No. A ‘Junmyeon’ can do your taxes. If you need a root canal,  _Junmyeon’s_  your man. But between the sheets?” He shakes his head. “Not Junmyeon’s strong suit.  _‘I love you, Junmyeon. Give it to me, Junmyeon. I can’t get enough of you,_ Junmyeon _._ ’” he whines, imitating the younger’s voice. “See? It doesn’t work.”

“What can I get you?” their waitress asks as she approaches the table, cutting Jongin off before he can retort.

“I’ll have the number three,” Kyungsoo smiles at her, closing the menu as she jots down his order.

“And what kind of bread do you want that on?”

Kyungsoo shrugs. “Surprise me.”

The waitress nods and turns to Jongin.

“You know, what I’d like is the apple pie a la mode.”

“Apple… a la mode…” the waitress repeats to herself as she writes.

“But I’d like the pie heated, and I don’t want the ice cream on top, I want it on the side,” he continues with a pleasant smile. “And I’d like strawberry instead of vanilla if you have it. If not, then no ice cream, just whipped cream, but only it it’s real. If it’s out of a can, then nothing.”

The waitress cocks an eyebrow as Jongin hands her the menus. “Not even the pie?”

“No, just the pie. But then not heated.”

Kyungsoo stares at him in disbelief as the waitress walks away. Jongin habitually adjusts his bangs, only noticing Kyungsoo’s look after a few seconds.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Kyungsoo capitulates, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “So how come you broke up with Junmyeon?”

“How do you know we broke up?” Jongin counters.

“Because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here with me; you’d be with Junmyeon the Wonder Schlong.”

“First of all, I’m not  _with_  you. Second of all, it’s none of your business why we broke up.”

“You’re right, you're right.” Kyungsoo agrees, checking his phone. I don’t want to know.”

Another beat of silence passes before Jongin speaks up again.

“Well if you must know, it was because he was very jealous and I had these Days of the Week underpants.”

Kyungsoo makes a buzzer sound without even looking up. “Judge’s ruling on this. Days of the Week underpants?”

“Yes,” Jongin confirms, confidently lifting his chin. “They had the days of the week on them, and I thought they were sort of funny— and one day he said to me, you never wear Sunday. He got all suspicious. Where was Sunday? Where had I left Sunday? And I told him and he didn’t believe me!”

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow, now looking Jongin in the eye. “What?”

“They don’t make Sunday.”

“Why not?”

“Because of God,” Jongin informs him sincerely. Kyungsoo blinks at him.

“And that’s what broke you up?”

“Yes.”

“How many men have you slept with?”

Jongin scoffs again with indignation. “I’m not going to tell you that!”

“Okay. Don’t tell me.”

“…Two.”

Kyungsoo’s grinning again. “You’ve been with two people and you’re telling me based on two people you know whether or not you’ve had great sex?”

Jongin doesn’t answer the question, but turns it back on Kyungsoo instead. “How many have you?”

The elder shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo repeats.

“Is it between zero and three, four and ten, or ten and a hundred?”

“Ten and a hundred.”

Jongin wrinkles his nose. “Is it closer to ten or closer to a hundred?”

“Ten,” Kyungsoo replies with a simper. The waitress returns then with their food in hand, and Jongin seethes silently for a while as they eat. 

It’s dark outside by the time they’re done, and Kyungsoo watches Jongin intently as the younger man calculates his portion of the bill on the back of the receipt. 

“What?” Jongin asks when he notices Kyungsoo staring at him, nervously wiping at his face. “Do I have…?”

“You’re a very attractive person,” Kyungsoo states. Jongin’s visibly surprised by the compliment, but quickly composes himself.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Luhan never said you were so attractive.”

“Maybe he doesn’t think I’m attractive.”

“It’s not a matter of opinion. Empirically, you are attractive.”

Jongin frowns at him. “Kyungsoo, Luhan is my  _friend._ ”

“So?” Kyungsoo asks, dropping his cash on top of Jongin’s and following him to the door. Jongin looks over his shoulder at him like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“So you’re  _going_  with him.”

“So?”

“So you’re coming on to me!”

“No I wasn’t,” Kyungsoo says easily, unperturbed by the incredulous look Jongin is giving him. “What? Can’t a gay man say another man is attractive without it being a come-on?”

Jongin looks like he’s about to argue, but gives up at the last minute with a frustrated huff and walks back to the car with Kyungsoo on his heels.

“All right,” Kyungsoo continues, “Let’s just say for the sake of argument that it was a come-on. I take it back. Alright? I take it back.”

“You can’t take it back,” Jongin says with his hand on the door handle, looking at Kyungsoo over the roof of the car.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s already out there!”

“Oh, jeez. What are we supposed to do now?” Kyungsoo says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Call the cops? It’s  _already out there!_ ”

“Just let it lie, okay?” Jongin says with finality, quickly getting into the car.

“Right, right,” Kyungsoo agrees, his tone light as he settles back into the driver’s seat. “Let it lie. That’s my policy. Let it lie.” There’s a beat of silence as he starts the engine. “So, you want to spend the night in the motel? See what I did? I didn’t let it lie.”

“Kyungsoo—”

“I said I would and then I didn’t—”

“Kyungsoo—”

“I went the other way—”

“Kyungsoo—”

“Yes?”

“We are just going to be friends, okay?”

“Yeah, great,” Kyungsoo concurs as he pulls out of the lot. “Friends. Best thing.”

—

“You realize, of course, that we can never be friends,” Kyungsoo tells him after they’ve been on the road for a while. Jongin glances up from his book.

“What do you mean?”

“What I’m saying— and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form— is that two hot gay guys can’t be friends. The sex part always gets in the way.”

“That is not true,” Jongin retorts. “I have a number of gay friends and there’s no sex involved.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

“You only think you do.”

Jongin closes his book and turns his full attention on Kyungsoo. “You’re saying I’m having sex with these men without my knowledge?” 

“No, I’m saying they all  _want_ to have sex with you.”

There’s another beat of silence while Jongin thinks about that.

“…they do not.”

“They do too.”

“They do not.”

“Do too.

“How do you know?”

“Because no gay man can be friends with a guy he finds attractive,” Kyungsoo tells him, glancing between Jongin and the road. “He always wants to have sex with him.”

“So you’re saying a gay man can be friends with a dude he finds  _un_ attractive.”

“Nope; you pretty much want to nail them, too.”

Jongin crosses his arms across his chest. “What if  _they_ don’t want to have sex with  _you_?”

“Doesn’t matter. The sex thing is already out there, so the friendship is ultimately doomed, and that’s the end of the story.”

“Well I guess we’re not going to be friends then,” Jongin concludes, turning his head to look out the window.

“I guess not.”

“It’s too bad,” Jongin quips. After a pause, he adds, “You were the only person I knew in New York.”

The morning finds Jongin parking the car in downtown New York near Washington Square, sun shining down on them once again as Kyungsoo hops out and retrieves his duffel bag from the backseat. Jongin steps out too, standing beside Kyungsoo on the sidewalk as the back door slams closed.

“Well, it was nice knowing you,” Kyungsoo grins. Jongin returns the smile.

“Yeah. It was interesting.”

“Yeah. Thanks for the ride.”

“You’re welcome.”

There’s another awkward moment, neither of them really knowing what to say next.

“Well, have a nice life,” Jongin says lightheartedly, extending a hand that Kyungsoo gratefully shakes.

“You too.”

Jongin gets back in his car and restarts the engine as Kyungsoo walks away, driving until he disappears into the traffic of New York City.

 

 


	2. Two (2011)

_(five years later)_

Sehun keeps the hand not holding Jongin’s carry-on on the blonde’s waist as he kisses him slowly, the bustle of the airport around them entirely ignored as he locks Jongin in his embrace. Jongin gently runs a hand through his boyfriend’s hair, memorizing the texture of it beneath his fingertips, savoring the taste of Sehun’s lips against his. Kyungsoo rushes down the hallway of the airline terminal then, giving the couple a passing glance as he walks by. 

A second passes before he slowly backs up, giving the pair a longer look from a distance that’s a little too close. Jongin notices him first, pulling back a little and tugging on Sehun’s jacket to get his attention.

“Sehun, I thought it was you,” Kyungsoo grins after a moment when Sehun turns to look at him. “Do Kyungsoo.”

Jongin’s eyes widen a little at the name, and he tries to subtly hide his face in Sehun’s sleeve.

“Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo, how are you?” Sehun smiles back, heartily shaking his hand.

“How’re you doing?”

“Fine, fine.”

“I thought it was you,” Kyungsoo says again. “Still with the D.A.’s office?”

“I switched over to the other side,” Sehun tells him. “What about you?”

“I’m working for a small company— political consulting.”

He and Sehun both nod, and there’s an awkward pause while Kyungsoo seems to finally notice Jongin hiding behind Sehun’s arm.

“Oh, Kyungsoo, this is Kim Jongin. Do Kyungsoo. We used to live in the same building.”

“Hi,” Kyungsoo says, a tiny crinkle appearing on his forehead as he looks at him. Jongin nods politely, squirming a little under the weight of his gaze.

“Well great to see you,” he says after a moment, tearing his eyes of Jongin to smile at Sehun again. “I’ve got a plane to catch, but see you around.”

Sehun smiles and pats him good-naturedly on the back. Kyungsoo gives Jongin one last look, obviously deep in thought, before shaking his head to himself and walking away.

“Thank god he couldn’t place me,” Jongin says with a frown as he watches Kyungsoo’s retreating back. “I drove from college to New York with him five years ago and it was the longest night of my life.”

Sehun’s defined brows draw together at the information as he redirects his attention to Jongin’s face. 

“What happened?”

“He made a pass at me and when I said no, he was going with a friend of mine, uh…” Jongin hesitates, focusing his eyes on the pattern on Sehun’s tie as he thinks, “…oh God, I can’t even remember his name!” He laughs, grinning up at his boyfriend. “Don’t get involved with me, Sehun, I’m twenty-six years old and I can’t even remember the name of the person I was such good friends with that I wouldn’t get involved with his boyfriend…”

“So what  _happened_?” Sehun asks again, raising an eyebrow and looking down at Jongin’s still smiling face.

“When?”

“When he made a pass at you and you said no—”

“Uh… I said we can just be friends.” The smile drops off of Jongin’s face as he recalls, “And this part I remember, he said that two gay men couldn’t really be friends.” He looks up into Sehun’s face. “Do you think that’s true?”

Sehun thinks for a second before shaking his head.

“No.”

“Do you have any gay friends? Just friends?”

Sehun hesitates for another moment before replying. “…no. But I’ll get one if it’s important to you.”

Jongin smiles brightly, slowly leaning up to catch Sehun’s lips again and pulling away at the last second.

“Luhan!” he cries, shoulders slumping in relief. “That was his name. Thank God.”

Sehun laughs lightly, pulling Jongin closer. “I’ll miss you,” he says, pressing another soft kiss to Jongin’s lips. “I love you.”

Jongin positively lights up at the words, beaming up at Sehun in shock. “You do?”

“Yes,” Sehun nods, returning the smile.

“I love  _you,_ ” Jongin says after a second of gathering his voice before stealing one last kiss.

—

Jongin sits on the plane some time later with a book in his lap and a soft glow about himself. He’s in the center seat of the economy class, but he’s still got a dreamy smile on his face as he gazes off into space, Sehun’s confession echoing in his head. Kyungsoo’s in the aisle seat in the row behind him, and he peers curiously over the headrests as he tries to remember where he’s seen him before. Jongin doesn’t notice, and Kyungsoo slowly settles back into his seat, features troubled.

“What can I get you?” the stewardess asks as she stops her cart beside Jongin’s row.

“Do you have Bloody Mary mix?” asks the blonde.

“Yes,” the stewardess confirms as she begins to pour.

“No, wait,” Jongin stops her. “Here’s what I want. Regular tomato juice, not too much ice, and fill it up about three quarters, and then add a splash of Bloody Mary mix. Just a splash. And a little piece of lime, but on the side.”

“The University of Chicago, right?” Kyungsoo’s head pops up again, this time with a smile on his face. Jongin startles, looking over his shoulder before quickly looking away again.

“…yes.”

Kyungsoo’s head disappears for a few seconds, but he pops right back up like an irritating whack-a-mole. “Did you look this good at the University of Chicago?”

“No,” Jongin quips, pointedly avoiding eye contact. Kyungsoo grins playfully.

“Did we ever…?”

Jongin laughs in disbelief at the implication before looking back again. “No, no, Jesus.” The man on the aisle in Jongin’s row watches the exchange with raised eyebrows, and Jongin pleasantly informs him, “We drove from Chicago to New York the day after graduation.”

“Would you two like to sit together?” he asks, and before Jongin can take a breath to object, Kyungsoo’s on his feet.

“Great, thanks!”

Jongin sulks as his seat mate trades places with Kyungsoo, trying his best to angle his body the other way as Kyungsoo makes himself comfortable.

“You were a friend of… oh jeez…”

“Lu,” Jongin reminds him with a roll of his eyes. “I can’t believe you can’t remember his name.”

“What do you mean? I remember. Lulu, right? Lunan.”

“Han.”

“Han, right. That’s what I said. Whatever happened to him?”

“I have no idea,” Jongin admits, pretending to read the book still open on his lap. 

“You have no idea? You were a good friend of his. We didn’t make it because you were such good friends.”

“ _You_ went out with him.”

“But was it worth it? This sacrifice for a friend you haven’t even kept in touch with?”

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin says as he lowers the book, a smile playing on his lips as he looks the elder in the eye. “You may not believe this, but I  _never_ considered not sleeping with you a sacrifice.”

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow, but his smile doesn’t waver. “Fair enough,” he capitulates, leaning back in his seat. “Fair enough.”

“You were going to be a gymnast,” he says a few seconds later. 

“A journalist.”

“Right, that’s what I said. So did you…?”

“I’m a journalist. I work at the  _News_.” the younger informs him.

“Great. And you’re with Sehun, that’s great.” Kyungsoo peers over Jongin’s shoulder to look at his book. It’s the beginning of a mediocre erotica he’s read a dozen times. “You guys have been together, what, three weeks?”

The blonde looks up. “A month… how do you know?”

“You take someone to the airport, it’s clearly the beginning of the relationship. That’s why I have never taken anyone to the airport at the beginning of a relationship.”

Jongin stares at him, and know’s he’ll regret asking, “Why?”

“Because eventually things move on and you  _don’t_ take someone to the airport, and I never wanted anyone to be able to say to me, ‘how come you never take me to the airport anymore?’”

“It’s amazing,” Jongin deadpans after a beat of silence, “You look like a normal person but you’re actually the angel of death.”

“Are you gonna marry him?” Kyungsoo asks lightly, and it catches Jongin a little off guard.

“We’ve only known each other a month. Besides, neither one of us is looking to get married right now.”

“I’m getting married,” Kyungsoo tells him. Jongin immediately looks back at his eyes to check for laughter, but he’s not kidding this time.

“You are?”

“Yep,” Kyungsoo nods matter-of factly.

“ _You_ are?” Jongin asks again after a second, not even attempting to hide his disbelief.

“Yep.”

Jongin smiles at him in awe. “Who  _is_  he?”

“Kim Jongdae. He’s a lawyer.”

“You’re getting married,” Jongin confirms again, this time with laughter bubbling up behind the words.

“What’s so funny about it?”

“Nothing, it’s just so… optimisticof you.”

“You’d be amazed what falling madly in love can do for you,” Kyungsoo smiles at him, and Jongin can’t help but return it with sincerity.

“That’s fantastic, Kyungsoo. It’s nice to see you embracing life like this.”

“Besides, you just get to a certain point where you get tired of the whole thing,” Kyungsoo adds with a vague wave of his hand.

“What whole thing?”

“The whole  _life-of-a-single-guy_  thing. You know, you meet someone, you have the safe lunch where you decide you like each other enough to move on to dinner, you go dancing, then you go back to his place, you have sex, and the minute you finish, you know what goes through your head?”

Jongin shakes his head.

“How long do I have to lie here and hold him before I can get up and go home? Is thirty seconds enough?”

Jongin stares at him with his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “That’s what you're thinking? Is that true?”

“Yeah. Lots of men think that.” And his voice softens a little when he asks, “How long do you like to be held afterwards?”

He gives Jongin a second to blush and stutter before continuing. “All night, right? That’s the problem. Somewhere between thirty seconds and all night is your problem.”

“I don’t  _have_  a problem.”

“Yes you do.”

—

The plane lands an hour later in D.C., and Kyungsoo manages to catch up to Jongin on the moving sidewalk in the airport terminal.

“You staying over?”

“…yes.”

“Would you like to have dinner?”

Jongin looks at him suspiciously over his phone. 

“What? Just friends.” Kyungsoo insists.

“I thought you didn’t believe gay guys could be friends.”

“When did I say that?”

“On the ride to New York.”

“No, no, I never said that,” Kyungsoo waves his hand dismissively. After a moment of thought, he relents, “Yes. That’s right. They can’t be friends.”

Jongin rolls his eyes and looks back at his phone.

“…unless both of them are involved with other people,” Kyungsoo adds, leaning against the handrail as he thinks it over. “Then they can. This is an amendment to the earlier rule. If the two people are in relationships, the pressure of possible involvement is lifted.” He furrows his eyebrows, “Although that doesn’t work either, because what happens is the person you’re involved with doesn’t understand why you need to be friends with the person you’re friends with, like it must mean something’s missing from your relationship and you have to go outside to get it. And when you say ‘no no, it’s not true; there’s nothing missing from our relationship,’ the person you’re involved with accuses you of being secretly attracted to the person you’re just friends with, which you probably are, let’s face it, who the hell are we kidding? Which brings us back to the original rule before the amendment, which is two hot gay dudes can’t be friends. So where does that leave us?”

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin finally cuts in, lifting his chin and looking the elder in the eye.

“Yes, Jongin—”

“Goodbye.”

Kyungsoo looks at him for a minute before shrugging lightly, shaking Jongin’s hand in farewell. Jongin turns and continues walking down the sidewalk, and Kyungsoo walks beside him. The blonde tenses with annoyance as they continue in the same direction, pausing after a few seconds of awkward silence to give Kyungsoo a look.

“…I’m going to stop walking,” Kyungsoo tells him upon seeing Jongin’s expression, still smiling as Jongin takes a deep breath and walks away. Kyungsoo rides the conveyor as he watches his back retreat until he disappears into the crowd of the airport.


	3. Three (2015)

“So I looked through his pockets, okay?” Baekhyun is saying as Jongin tells the waiter his drink order. Tao groans, resting his chin in his hand.

“Baekhyun, why do you look through his pockets?”

“And you know what I found?” Baekhyun continues, disregarding the question. Tao takes a deep breath, but plays along anyway.

“What?”

“They just bought a dining room table,” he says, despair evident in his voice. “He and his wife just went out and spent $1,600 on a dining room table.”

“Where?”

“The point isn’t where, Tao,” Baekhyun moans, slumping down in his seat. “The point is, he’s never going to leave her!”

“What else is new?” Tao throws his straw wrapper across the table at the eldest. “You’ve known this for two years.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Baekhyun grumbles, pouting down at his soda. “I know you’re right.”

“Why can’t you find someone single?” Tao asks amusedly. “When I was single, I knew lots of nice, single men. There must be someone. Jongin found someone.”

“Jongin got the last good one,” Baekhyun complains. Jongin, who’s been quiet throughout the exchange, looks up with a small smile.

“Sehun and I broke up,” he informs them. Tao and Baekhyun both look at him in shock.

“What?”

“When?”

“Monday.”

“And you waited three days to tell us?” Tao asks incredulously.

“Wait, you mean Sehun’s available?”

“For God’s sake Baekhyun—” Tao reaches over to swat at Baekhyun’s head. “Don’t you have any feelings about this? He’s obviously upset—”

“I’m not that upset,” Jongin cuts in, smiling reassuringly at his friends. “We’ve been growing apart for quite a while.”

Baekhyun looks horrified.

“But you were a  _couple!_ You had someone to go places with; you had a date on national holidays!”

“I just said to myself, ‘You deserve more than this. You’re thirty-one years old—’”

“—and the clock is ticking,” Baekhyun and Tao finish together. Jongin laughs lightly and straightens his napkin in his lap.

“No, the clock doesn’t really start to tick ’til you’re thirty-six.”

“God, you’re in such great shape,” Tao stares at him in awe.

“Well, I’ve had a few days to get used to it, and I feel okay.” Jongin says matter-of-factly.

“Good. Then you’re ready.”

Baekhyun plops his phone down on the table in front of them and starts scrolling through his seemingly endless contact list.

“ _Really_ , Baekhyun,” Tao says with disbelief, shaking his head in disapproval.

“How else do you think you do it?” Baekhyun shoots back, pulling up a profile on the screen. “Jongin, I’ve got the perfect guy.”

“Then  _you_ go out with him—” Tao starts before he’s interrupted.

“I’ve got someone.”

“You’ve got someone someone else also has.”

The eldest ignores him, turning back to Jongin.

“ _I_  don’t happen to find him attractive, but you might.”

“Baekhyun, I’m not ready yet,” Jongin sighs, giving his best friend a look.

“I thought you just said you were over him!”

“I am over him!” Jongin insists. “But I am in a mourning period.” There’s a few seconds of silence before his eyes wander back over to Baekhyun’s phone. “…who is it?”

“Lee Taemin,” Baekhyun says with a grin. Tao chokes on his iced tea, and Jongin can’t help but chuckle too.

“You fixed me up with him six years ago.”

“Okay okay,” Baekhyun sighs, scrolling some more. “Ah! Choi Siwon.”

“He’s been married for over a year,” Jongin says, watching Baekhyun’s long fingers tap away at the screen.

“Really?” Baekhyun says, glancing up for a second before looking back at the phone. “Married…” he repeats to himself as he adds the “X” emoji to the contact name.

“Wait, wait, I got it, I got it—”

“Look,” Jongin interrupts, “there is no point in my going out with someone I might really like if I met him at the right time but who, right now, has no chance of being anything to me but a transitional man.”

“Okay, okay. But don’t wait too long. Do you remember Kim Taehyung? His wife left him, and everyone said, ‘give him some time, don’t move in too fast,’ and six months later, he was dead.”

“What are you saying?” Jongin deadpans. “I should marry someone right away in case he’s about to die?”

“At least you can say you were married,” Tao points out.

“I’m just saying that the right man for you might be out there right now, and if you don’t grab him, someone else will, and you’ll have to spend the rest of your life knowing that someone else is married to your husband.” Baekhyun says, sipping his soda. Jongin just stares at him.

—

“When did this happen?” Chanyeol is asking, looking at his despondent best friend beside him. The stadium is packed with Mets fans, the energy level is high, and there’s a wave in progress going across the crowd. It it, for the most part, disregarded by the pair.

“Friday,” Kyungsoo says. “Jongdae comes home, he says, ‘I don’t know if I want to be married anymore.’ You know, like it’s the institution, it’s nothing personal, it’s just something he’s thinking about in a kind of casual way. I’m calm. I say, ‘Why don’t we think about it? Take some time; don’t rush into anything.’ Next day he says he’s thought about it— he wants a trial separation. He just wants to  _try_ it, he says, like this is supposed to cushion the blow. I mean, I got married so I could  _stop_ dating, so I don’t see where ‘we can still date’ is a big incentive since, as far as I’m concerned, the last thing you wanna do is date your husband, who’s supposed to love you. Which is what I’m saying to him when it crosses my mind that maybe he doesn’t. So I say, ‘Don’t you love me anymore?’ and you know what he says? ‘I don’t know if I’ve  _ever_ loved you.’”

“Ooh,” Chanyeol winces in sympathy, both of them standing and lifting their arms as the wave passes through. “That’s harsh.”

They sit back down, Kyungsoo settling heavily into the plastic chair. “You don’t bounce back from that right away,” Chanyeol adds.

“Thanks, Yeol,” Kyungsoo sighs.

“No, I’m a writer. I know dialogue. That’s particularly harsh.”

“And then,” Kyungsoo starts again, “he says he just found out that somebody at his office is going to South America; he can sublet his apartment. I can’t believe it. ‘I can’t believe this,’ I say, and the doorbell rings.  _‘I can sublet his apartment.’_  The words are still in the air; the words are still hanging there like in a little balloon connected to his mouth.”

“Like a cartoon.”

“Yeah. And I get to the door and the movers are there. Now I’m starting to get suspicious, and I say, ‘Jongdae? When did you call these movers?’ He’s not answering. I look at the movers and say, ‘When did this man book you for this gig?’ and they’re standing there, three huge guys, right? One of them is wearing a shirt that says ‘Don’t fuck with Mister Zero,’ and I say, when did you make this arrangement— and Jongdae says ‘a week ago.’ I say, ‘You’ve known this for a whole week and you didn’t tell me?’ and he says,  _‘I didn’t want to ruin your birthday.’”_

A second wave comes through the crowd, and the two of them mindlessly participate once again.

“You’re saying Mister Zero knew you were getting a divorce a week before you did?”

“Mister Zero knew.”

“Jeez…”

“I haven’t told you the bad part yet,” Kyungsoo sighs, staring blankly down at the field. 

“What could be worse than Mister Zero knowing?”

“It’s all a lie,” Kyungsoo says after a second, the hurt obvious in his voice. “He’s in love with another guy. Some tax attorney. He moved in with him.”

“How did you find out?” Chanyeol asks, eyebrows furrowed in concern as he looks at Kyungsoo’s face.

“I followed him and stood outside the building.”

Chanyeol’s heart breaks for him. “Kyungsoo, that’s so humiliating…”

“Tell me about it. Standing on the street, the ultimate schmuck.” Kyungsoo runs a hand through his hair and glances up at the sky. “I knew it would happen. This whole time I knew even though we were happy, it was just an illusion and one day he’d kick the shit out of me.”

“Marriages don’t break up on account of infidelity,” Chanyeol tells him. “It’s just a symptom that something else is wrong.”

“Oh really?” Kyungsoo snaps. “Well that  _symptom_ is fucking my husband.”

The wave comes through again. They stand and sit without a second thought.

“At least you got the apartment,” Chanyeol says helpfully. Kyungsoo glares at him.

—

“So I just happened to see his American Express bill,” Baekhyun starts as Jongin flips through a copy of “Safe Sex in Dangerous Times” a few weeks later. Jongin rolls his eyes before re-shelving the book and wandering further down the aisle of the bookstore.

“What do you mean, you  _just happened_ to see it?”

“Well, he was shaving, and there it was in his briefcase…”

Jongin stops to stare at him incredulously. “What if he came out and saw you looking through his briefcase?”

“You’re missing the point,” Baekhyun whines, tugging on the younger’s sleeve as he reads the back cover of a different book. “I’m telling you what I found. He spent $120 on a nightgown for his wife.” He slumps defeatedly against the shelves. “I don’t think he’s ever going to leave her.”

“ _No one_  thinks he’s ever going to leave her.”

“You’re right, you’re right. I know you’re right,” Baekhyun sighs, running a hand through his hair and looking across the bookstore. He pauses, furrowing his eyebrows a little before slowly leaning over to Jongin, “Someone is staring at you in Personal Growth.”

Jongin glances over his shoulder at the Personal Growth section, where Do Kyungsoo is looking at him curiously over a book of his own. He can’t help but smile to himself at the pure coincidence of running into him again before turning back to the shelf. 

“I know him. You’d like him. He’s married.”

“Who is he?”

“Do Kyungsoo. He’s a political consultant.”

“He’s cute,” Baekhyun says, trying to check Kyungsoo out without being too obvious and failing miserably. Jongin glances back again.

“You think he’s cute?”

“How do you know he’s married?”

“Because the last time I saw him, he was getting married,” Jongin says.

“When was that?”

“Six years ago.”

“So he might not be married anymore!” Baekhyun says excitedly.

“Also he’s obnoxious.”

“This is just like in the movies! Remember, like in  _The Lady Vanishes_ , where she says to him, ‘You are the most obnoxious man I have ever met—’”

“—the most hateful—“ Jongin corrects.

“—and then they fall madly in love.”

“Also, he never remembers me,” he insists, shrugging Baekhyun’s hand off his shoulder.

“Kim Jongin.”

Jongin slowly turns around and is faced with a smiling Kyungsoo. His eyes are tired, but he’s sharply dressed and his hair is perfect, and Jongin wonders if he was this attractive the last time he saw him.

“Hi, Kyungsoo,” he smiles back, putting the book down and turning to face him. He’s taller than the elder now, he notices.

“I thought it was you.”

“It is,” Jongin laughs softly. “This is Baekhyun…”

He turns to his side just in time to see his best friend disappearing down the stairs, waving happily and giving Jongin a thumbs-up before vanishing.

“…was Baekhyun.”

Kyungsoo laughs, and Jongin decides it’s a rather pleasant sound. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine.”

“Oh, fine. How’s Sehun?”

“Fine,” Jongin says again, swallowing thickly and briefly glancing at his shoes. “I hear he’s fine.”

“You’re not with Sehun anymore?”

“We just broke up,” Jongin says with a small smile, hoping it doesn’t look too strained.

“Oh, man, that’s too bad,” he says with a frown, and he sounds uncharacteristically sincere.

“Yeah, well, you know. Yeah,” the younger shrugs. “What about you?”

“I’m fine.”

“How’s married life?”

“Not so good,” Kyungsoo tells him, his voice cool and detached. “I’m getting a divorce.”

Jongin’s smile slips off his face. “Oh god, I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I’m really sorry.” He hesitates for a second before asking, “When did this happen?”

“Couple of weeks ago.”

“That’s right when Sehun and I broke up.”

“Isn’t that amazing?” Kyungsoo says dryly.

“Not really. Everybody in New York breaks up this time of year.”

“Maybe it’s the pressure of Halloween.”

“Yeah. You never know what to go as.” And after a second, “…what happened?”

“He left me. He fell in love with a tax attorney.”

“A ‘Junmyeon,’” Jongin jokes without thinking.

“A Junmyeon?” Kyungsoo repeats before remembering. “Oh, yeah. Right, well, Minseok, actually, but it’s the same.”

“I’m sorry, Kyungsoo.”

“Yeah, well. What are you going to do?” He shrugs with a small smile of his own. “What happened with you guys?”

—

“When Sehun and I started seeing each other, we wanted exactly the same thing,” Jongin tells him later over coffee. Kyungsoo’s is black, and Jongin’s nursing an iced skinny hazelnut macchiato with sugar-free syrup, light ice, and no whip. “We wanted to live together, but we weren’t going to get married because every time everyone we knew got married, it ruined their relationship. They practically never had sex again. It’s true, it’s one of the secrets no one ever tells you. I would sit around with my friends who had kids— well, actually my one friend who has kids, Tao, and he would complain about how he and his husband never did it anymore. He didn’t even complain about it, now that I think about it. He just said it matter-of-factly. They were up all night, they were both exhausted all the time, the kids just took every sexual impulse they had out of them. Sehun and I used to talk about it and say, ‘We’re so lucky. We have this wonderful relationship where we can have sex on the kitchen floor and not worry about the kid walking in. We can fly off to Rome on a moment’s notice.’

“Then one day I was taking Tao’s little girl for the afternoon. I’d promised to take her to the circus, and we were in a cab playing ‘I Spy,’ you know? ‘I spy a lamppost, I spy a mailbox.’ And she looked out the window and there was this man and this woman with two little kids, the man had one of the kids on his shoulders, and Tao’s little girl said, ‘I spy a family.’” Jongin says, pausing for a moment when his voice gets thick with emotion. “And I started to cry.”

Kyungsoo listens silently, eyes trained on Jongin’s, a gentle expression on his face.

“You know, I just started crying,” Jongin continues, a slight catch in his voice. “And I went home, and I said, the thing is, Sehun, we never do fly off to Rome on a moment’s notice.”

“What about the kitchen floor?” Kyungsoo asks. Jongin shakes his head.

“Not once,” he says softly. “It’s this very cold, hard, Mexican ceramic tile. Anyway, we talked about it for a long time, and I said ‘this is what I want,’ and he said ‘well I don’t,’ and I said ‘I guess it’s over,’ and he left.” He pauses to nod to himself, as if trying to convince himself that it’s as simple as that. “And the truth is, I really feel fine,” he says as he sips his coffee, the look in his eyes far from fine. “I’m over him. I really am over him. That was it for him, that was the most he could give, and every time I think about it, I’m more and more convinced I did the right thing.”

“You sound really healthy,” Kyungsoo tells him.

“Yeah,” Jongin says after a beat. His heart’s not in the words.

—

“At least I got the apartment,” Jongin says optimistically as they walk down unhurriedly down the street together. The sun is setting, making the fall leaves seem even more brilliant under the warm orange glow.

“Everyone says that to me, too,” Kyungsoo chuckles, his hands shoved in his pockets. “But what’s so hard about getting an apartment? You read the obituaries, you find out who died and you go see the doorman. What would make it easier  is if they’d put the two sections together. ‘Mr. Klein died today, leaving behind a wife, two children, and a spacious three-bedroom apartment with a wood-burning fireplace.’”

Jongin laughs genuinely at that, and the somber mood hanging around both of them dissipates a little.

“When we first met,” Kyungsoo says after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “I really didn’t like you that much.”

“I didn’t like  _you.”_

“You did, too,” Kyungsoo teases. “You were just so uptight. You’re much softer now.”

Jongin pauses in his walking to look at Kyungsoo and cross his arms. “I hate that kind of remark. It sounds like a compliment, but it’s really an insult, you know?”

“Fine, you’re still as hard as nails,” Kyungsoo shrugs. Jongin rolls his eyes and starts walking again.

“I just didn’t want to sleep with you, so you had to write it off as a character flaw instead of dealing with the possibility that it might have something to do with you.”

“What’s the statute of limitations on apologies?”

Jongin smiles. “Ten years.”

“Ooh, I can just get it in under the wire,” Kyungsoo says, earning another laugh from the younger. They walk in silence for a few more seconds before Jongin stops again.

“Would you… like to have dinner with me sometime?” he asks. Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow, glancing around as if he’s not sure how to respond.

“…are we becoming friends now?”

Jongin thinks for a second before nodding. “Yes, I guess so.”

“Wow,” Kyungsoo smiles as they start walking again. “This is amazing. You may be the first attractive man I have not wanted to sleep with in my entire life.”

“That’s wonderful, Kyungsoo,” Jongin sighs.


	4. Four (2015)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for a smidge of sexual content ahead

“I had that dream again,” Kyungsoo tells Jongin as they walk through the park. “The one where I’m making love and the Olympic judges are watching. I nailed the compulsories, so this is it. The finals. I get a 9.8 from the Canadian. I get a perfect 10 from the American. And my mother, dressed as a German, gives me a 5.6. You think there’s any meaning to that?”

“I’ve dreams like that,” Jongin says. “Well, sort of. Basically it’s the same one I’ve had since I was twelve.”

“What happens?”

“It’s very embarrassing.”

“Don’t tell me,” Kyungsoo says.

“Okay. There’s this guy.”

“What does he look like?”

“I don’t know,” says Jongin. “He’s sort of faceless.”

“A faceless guy. Okay. Then what happens?”

“He rips off my clothes.”

“And then what?” Kyungsoo asks after a second when he doesn’t continue. Jongin smiles at him.

“That’s it.”

Kyungsoo stares at him. “That’s it? A faceless guy rips off your clothes, and that’s the sex fantasy you’ve been having since you were twelve? Exactly the same?”

“Sometimes I vary it a little,” Jongin says defensively.

“Which part of it do you vary?”

“What I’m wearing.”

—

A few weeks later, Jongin’s at Kyungsoo’s apartment, listening to Kyungsoo recount the events of his first date after his and Jongdae’s split as they unroll a new rug across the elder’s floor. “It was the most uncomfortable night of my life,” he’s saying, and Jongin groans when he realizes the rug is sideways. Kyungsoo notices too, and they both move to opposite sides of the room to rotate it.

“The first date back is always the toughest.”

“You only had one date,” Kyungsoo says, referring to the guy Jongin met for dinner a few days prior. “How do you know it won’t get worse?”

“How much worse can it get than finishing dinner, having him reach over, pull a hair out of my head, and start flossing with it at the table?” Jongin asks as he struggles with the rug.

“You’re talking dream date compared to my horror.”

“It’s gotta go this way,” Jongin says, straightening the edges of his side and pointing across to Kyungsoo’s.

“It started out fine,” Kyungsoo says as he copies Jongin. “He was a very nice person, and we were just talking at this Ethiopian restaurant he wanted to go to. I was making some jokes, you know, like ‘I didn’t know they had food in Ethiopia. This’ll be a quick meal. We’ll order two empty plates and leave.’” Jongin laughs, and Kyungsoo gestures to him. “See? Nothing from him. Not even a smile. So I downshift into small talk and ask him where he went to school; he says Michigan State, and it reminds me of Jongdae. All of a sudden I’m in the middle of this massive anxiety attack, and my heart’s beating like a wild man, and I’m sweating like a pig.”

“Jongdae went to Michigan State?” Jongin asks with a confused frown.

“No. He went to Northwestern. But they’re both Big Ten Schools.” Kyungsoo sighs as he crouches down beside the rug. “I was so upset, I had to leave the restaurant.”

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin says, walking over to crouch beside him. “I think it takes a long time. It might be months before we’re actually able to enjoy going out with someone new.”

“Yeah.”

“And maybe even longer before we’ll be able to go to bed with someone new.”

“Oh, I went to bed with him,” Kyungsoo says matter-of-factly. Jongin turns to stare at him in shock.

“You went to bed with him?”

“Yep.”

“Oh,” Jongin says, frowning as he looks away, unsure how to feel.

“Is this too green?” Kyungsoo asks after a moment of tense silence, gesturing to the rug.

—

“I don’t understand this relationship,” Chanyeol complains as he swings, his bat connecting with the baseball with a loud  _crack_. 

“What do you mean?” Kyungsoo asks from the batting cage beside him.

“You enjoy being with him?”

“Yes.”

“You find him attractive?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not sleeping with him?”

“No.”

“What are you afraid of?” Chanyeol asks. “You’re afraid to let yourself be happy.”

“Come on, can’t you give me credit for this?” Kyungsoo complains as his time runs out, leaning against his bat as he looks over at his friend. “This is a big step for me, Yeol, having a relationship with a cute guy like him that doesn’t involve sex. I’ve never been able to do this. I feel like I’m growing.”

“Are you finished yet?” A nine-year-old waiting outside the cage whines as he watches the two of them stand there. Kyungsoo turns around and leans down to look at him through the fence.

“I got a whole pocketful of quarters and I was here first, okay?”

“You were not.”

“Was too.”

“Were not.”

“Was too.”

The kid rolls his eyes and walks away with his friend as Kyungsoo puts another quarter in the machine. “Jerk.”

“Where was I?” Kyungsoo asks Chanyeol as he returns to the plate.

“You were growing,” Chanyeol drawls.

“Right. It’s very freeing. I can say anything to him.”

“Are you saying you can say things to him you can’t say to me?” Chanyeol pouts as he swings again. 

“No, it’s just different. It’s a whole different perspective. He doesn’t think the way we do. He tells me about the men he goes out with, and I can talk to him about the guys I see.”

“You tell him about other guys?”

“Yeah. Like the other night I made love to a guy and it was so incredible, I took him to a place that wasn’t human. He actually meowed.”

Chanyeol misses the next ball that comes his way, turning to stare at Kyungsoo in disbelief. “You made a man meow?”

“Yes, that’s the point. I can say these things to him. And the great thing is, I don’t have to lie because I’m not always thinking about how to get him into bed. I can just be myself.”

Chanyeol watches Kyungsoo swing at the next baseball. “You made a man meow?” he repeats.

—

“So what do you do with these guys?” Jongin asks him over lunch one day. “You just get up out of bed and leave?”

“Sure,” Kyungsoo shrugs.

“Explain to me how you do it. What do you say?”

“I have an early meeting or an early haircut or an early squash game.”

“You don’t play squash.”

“They don’t know that. They just met me.”

Jongin wrinkles his nose. “That’s disgusting,” he tells him as he takes a bite of his salad.

“I know. I feel terrible,” Kyungsoo says, picking tomato slice off his sandwich and folding it into his mouth.

“I am so glad I never got involved with you. I just would have ended up being some dude you had to get out bed and leave at three in the morning and go clean your andirons. And you don’t even have a fireplace,” Jongin shakes his head irritatedly. “Not that I would know this.”

“Why are you getting so upset? This isn’t about you.”

“Yes it is,” Jongin argues. “You’re a human affront to all bottoms. And I’m a bottom.”

“Look, I don’t feel great about this, but I don’t hear anyone complaining.” Kyungsoo insists.

“Of course not. You’re out the door too fast.”

“I think they have an okay time.”

“How do you know?”

“What do you mean, how do I know? I  _know,_ ” Kyungsoo says with a smirk.

“Because they…?” Jongin makes a vague gesture with his hands.

“Yeah, because they…” Kyungsoo mimics the gesture with amusement.

“But how do you know they’re really…” Jongin makes the gesture again with a simper of his own.

“What’re you saying, they fake orgasm?” Kyungsoo chuckles. “Dudes can’t do that.”

“It’s not that hard to make it look like it feels better than it does,” Jongin says with a dismissive wave of his hand. Kyungsoo looks affronted.

“Get out of here.”

“Why? Most bottoms, at one time or another, have exaggerated it,” he smiles smugly at the look on Kyungsoo’s face.

“Yeah, well, they haven’t exaggerated it with me, okay?”

“How do you know?”

“Because I  _know._ ”

“Oh, right. I forgot,” Jongin grins as he takes another bite of his food. “You always top.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Jongin giggles. “It’s just that all of you tops think it never happens to them and all bottoms at one time or another have done it. You do the math.”

“You don’t think I can tell the difference?”

“Nope,” Jongin smirks.

“Please. Don’t be ridiculous,” Kyungsoo grumbles, taking a bite of his sandwich. Jongin watches him amusedly for a few seconds before the smile slowly slips off his face, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Ooh…” he breathes slowly, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. “…oh my god…”

Kyungsoo glances up at him. “You alright?”

“Oh  _god_ ,” Jongin moans a little louder, running a hand through his hair, his expression turning seductive as he lets his eyes close. Kyungsoo realizes what he’s doing now, and darts his eyes around the restaurant before looking back at his plate in an attempt to ignore the younger. “Ooh… oh god…” Jongin says between labored breaths, tilting his head back and running his hand down his face. His features are contorted with pleasure, and Kyungsoo can’t resist stealing another peek. 

“Oh  _right there_ ,” Jongin cries suddenly as he draws a sharp breath, the urgency in his voice quickly rising. He moans unabashedly to the ceiling, at full volume this time, sobbing and gasping as if he can barely keep control over his own voice. “Oh, oh  _god_ ,” he mewls obscenely, and Kyungsoo watches as every customer in the diner slowly turns to stare. “Fuck,  _yes!_  Yes! Yes!  _Yes!_ Ohh! Oh god, yes, don’t stop! Fuck, you’re gonna make me come! Oh shit, shit,  _yes!”_

Jongin bangs on the table with each desperate  _yes_ , and Kyungsoo can’t do anything but stare in shock as the man across from him thrashes in his seat, ardently begging for  _more_  through his cries. He’s acutely aware of the dozens of eyes on them, but Jongin doesn’t seem to care at all, mindlessly gripping at the sides of the table as he screams loud enough to hear outside the restaurant, and Kyungsoo thanks God that there aren’t any children present to witness this. 

“Ohh…” Jongin moans as he slumps exhaustedly in seat following his ‘climax,’ trying desperately to catch his breath. “Oh god… ooh…”

Kyungsoo keeps staring as Jongin smiles smugly at him and straightens up before taking another bite of his salad as if nothing ever happened. It’s dead silent for a second before the dining room chatter slowly starts to build again.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” an older woman across the room tells her waitress when she comes to take her order.

—

New Year’s Eve that year finds Jongin and Kyungsoo at a party along with what seems like the rest of Manhattan, laughing and dancing as the live band plays. “Thank you for taking me out tonight,” Jongin raises his voice above the music. Kyungsoo returns the younger’s bright smile.

“Forget it. And next year, if neither one of us is with somebody, you’ve got a date.”

“It’s a deal,” Jongin giggles. “See? Now we can dance cheek to cheek.”

Kyungsoo chuckles as Jongin tightens his arms around his neck, both of them still swaying to the music. The lighthearted atmosphere slowly dissipates with every full rotation, and soon the air between them is thick with things unsaid.

“Ten seconds to midnight!” somebody yells, and the way Kyungsoo gazes at him as the partygoers around them start counting down makes Jongin’s heart beat uncomfortably fast. 

“Do you want to get some air?” he offers, and Jongin graciously nods.

Cheers of  _“Happy New Year!”_  erupt around them as the countdown ends, people singing and blowing noisemakers as the two of them slip out onto the deck. Everyone happily kisses their dates as the hopeful music swells, and there’s an unbearably awkward pause as Jongin and Kyungsoo hesitantly regard each other.

“Happy New Year,” Jongin finally says with a nervous laugh and smile. Kyungsoo warmly smiles back.

“Happy New Year.”

Kyungsoo kisses him, a tiny peck on the lips that’s purely platonic on the surface, but leaves them both wondering if that’s really all it is. Jongin smiles and follows it with a hug, and Kyungsoo holds him as if he’s afraid to let him go.


	5. Five (2016)

“You sent flowers to yourself?” Jongin asks incredulously as he and Baekhyun walk down the street, thick coats protecting them from the icy January wind. Baekhyun nods defeatedly.

“Sixty dollars I spent on this big, stupid arrangement of flowers. And I wrote a card that I planned to leave out on the front table where Kibum would just happen to see it—”

“What did the card say?”

“ _Please say yes. Love, Jonathan,_ ” Baekhyun mutters embarrassedly. Jongin just shakes his head at him.

“And did it work?”

“He didn’t even come over. He forgot some charity thing his wife was chairman of,” Baekhyun laments. “He’s never going to leave her.”

“Of course he isn’t,” Jongin glares at his best friend. Baekhyun lightly hits himself in the head as if trying to knock some sense into himself.

“You’re right, you’re right. I know you’re right.” He glances around at the street, “Where is this place, anyways?”

“Somewhere on the next block,” Jongin smiles.

“God, I can’t believe I’m doing this…”

“Look, Kyungsoo is one of my best friends, and _you_ are one of my best friends, and if by some chance you two hit it off, we could all still be friends instead of drifting apart the way you do when you get involved with someone who doesn’t know your friends.”

“You and I haven’t drifted apart since I started seeing Kibum.”

Jongin gives him a look. “If Kibum ever left his wife and I actually met him, I’m sure you and I would drift apart.”

“He’s never going to leave her,” Baekhyun sighs.

“Of course he isn’t.”

“You’re right, you’re right. I know you’re right.”

—

“I hate myself for letting you talk me into this,” Chanyeol grumbles as he walks beside Kyungsoo. “You know I’ve finally gotten to a place in my life where I’m comfortable with the fact that it’s just me and my work. If he’s so great, why aren't _you_ taking him out?”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “We’re just friends.”

“So you’re saying he’s not that attractive?”

“No, I told you he was attractive.”

“But you also said he has a good personality.”

“He _does_ have a good personality.”

Chanyeol gestures as if Kyungsoo’s just proved his point. Kyungsoo just stares at him.

“What?”

“When someone’s not attractive, they’re always described as having a good personality,” he explains.

“Look,” Kyungsoo sighs. “If you had asked me what he _looks_ like and I said ‘he has a good personality,’ _that_ would have meant he’s not attractive. But just because I happen to mention he has a good personality, he could be either. He could be unattractive with a good personality, or attractive with a good personality.”

“So which one is he?”

_“Attractive,”_ Kyungsoo says, barely keeping the exasperation out of his voice.

“But not beautiful, right?”

Chanyeol recoils a little at the glare Kyungsoo gives him.

—

It’s awkward. Almost unbearably so.

They haven’t even ordered their food yet, and they’re already running out of small talk. Kyungsoo can easily tell by Jongin’s body language how unattracted he is to Chanyeol, and Baekhyun isn’t doing much for him, either. 

“Oh, Baekhyun,” Jongin says pleasantly when there’s a lull in the conversation. “You and Kyungsoo are both from New Jersey.”

“Oh, really?” Baekhyun smiles at the man in front of him. “Where are you from?”

“Haddonfield,” Kyungsoo replies.

“South Orange,” Baekhyun tells him.

“Oh,” Kyungsoo nods. There’s a beat of quiet before they all look back at their menus. Jongin slumps a little in defeat.

“So what are we going to order?” Kyungsoo asks to fill the silence.

“I’m going to start with the grilled radicchio,” the youngest volunteers, offering a cheerful smile to the other men at the table.

“Chanyeol, Jongin is a great orderer,” Kyungsoo smiles, ignoring the look Jongin gives him. “It’s not just that he always picks the best thing on the menu; he orders it in such a way that the chef had no idea how good it could be.”

“I think restaurants have become too important,” Chanyeol says as he reads the menu.

“I agree,” Baekhyun pipes up. _“‘Restaurants are to modern people what theatre was to people in the Sixties,’”_ he quotes with a smile. “I read that in a magazine.”

Chanyeol looks up to stare at him in shock. “I _wrote_ that.”

“You did?” Baekhyun gasps, closing his menu leaning over the table as Chanyeol does the same. “Oh my god, I’ve never quoted anything from a magazine in my life. That’s amazing. Don’t you think that’s amazing?”

Chanyeol smiles brightly and nods. “I also wrote _‘Pesto is the quiche of the 21st Century.’”_

“Stop it!” Baekhyun almost squeals, kicking his feet a little under the table. “Are you serious? Where did I read that?” 

Chanyeol laughs, smiling brightly at the excitement on Baekhyun’s face. “New York Magazine.”

“Jongin writes for New York Magazine,” Kyungsoo says. Chanyeol smiles and nods at Jongin before turning back to Baekhyun.

“No one’s ever quoted me back to me before!”

Jongin meets Kyungsoo’s eyes across the table as their dates continue to chatter away, giving him a wry smile before taking another long sip of his drink.

—

“Oh, I’ve been looking for boots like these!” Baekhyun exclaims as the four of them pass a shoe store following dinner, pulling Jongin aside to look in the window as the other two keep walking down the street.

“What do you think of Chanyeol?” Baekhyun asks in a hushed whisper as soon as they’re alone, the look on his face uncharacteristically serious as he looks up into Jongin’s face. “Do you think you’d go out with him?”

“I don’t know… I mean—”

“—because I feel really comfortable with him.”

“You want to go out with Chanyeol,” Jongin sighs with a nod. 

“But would it be okay with you?” He asks again, looking concerned.

“Sure, sure,” Jongin nods again, smiling reassuringly. “I’m… I’m just worried about Kyungsoo. He’s very sensitive; he’s going through a rough time, so don’t, like, reject him right now, you know?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t,” Baekhyun quickly agrees. “I totally understand.”

—

“If you don’t think you’re going to call Baekhyun, do you mind if I call him?” Chanyeol is asking Kyungsoo a few yards further down the street.

“Well, no…” Kyungsoo hesitates, “…but for tonight you shouldn’t… Jongin’s very vulnerable. I mean, you can call Baekhyun, it’s fine, but in like a week, you know? After a decent interval. But don’t make any moves tonight.”

“Fine, no problem,” Chanyeol nods his agreement. “No problem. I wasn’t even thinking about tonight.”

Jongin and Baekhyun rejoin them, the youngest trying to ignore his best friend’s heart eyes as he looks at Chanyeol. “Well,” Chanyeol says casually, wandering closer to the curb. “I don’t feel like walking anymore. I think I’ll get a cab.”

“I’ll join you,” Baekhyun immediately offers.

“Great,” Chanyeol grins. “Taxi!”

The cab screeches to halt on the curb, and Jongin and Kyungsoo watch in shock as the two of them excitedly get into it together, already clinging to each other as the cab pulls away as quickly as it stopped. They’re left standing on the curb together in sudden silence, and share a tired look before continuing their walk down the avenue.

 


	6. Six (2016)

“We’re never going to find anything for Chanyeol and Baekhyun in here,” Jongin complains four months later as he follows Kyungsoo through a store whose front advertises that they sell gifts for those who have everything. “We should have gone to the plant store—”

“Here. The perfect thing,” Kyungsoo grins, pulling Jongin away from eyeing a remote-controlled blimp with disgust. “Everyone needs one of these.”

Jongin rolls his eyes as Kyungsoo scrolls through the song options on a karaoke machine, but doesn’t protest as Kyungsoo picks a duet from  _Rent_  and laughs when the music fills the store.

_“The filmmaker cannot see,”_  Kyungsoo belts, shoving the other microphone in Jongin’s face. Jongin laughs loudly at the elder’s perpetual lack of shame before providing the next line,

_“And the songwriter cannot hear!”_

_“Yet I see Mimi everywhere!”_

_“Angel’s voice is in my ear!”_

_“Just tighten those shoulders,”_  Kyungsoo playfully squeezes Jongin’s arm with his free hand, earning another bright, genuine smile as Jongin refers to the lyrics on the screen.

_“Just clench your jaw till you frown,”_

_“Just don’t let go or_ you may drown _…”_

Jongin launches himself into the chorus at full speed, moving a little bit to the music as Kyungsoo’s voice abruptly trails off after another line. It takes the younger a moment to notice, but when he looks back at Kyungsoo, his face is as pale as a sheet and the look in his eyes is something he hasn’t seen before as he stares across the store.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, huffing when Kyungsoo doesn’t respond. “It’s my voice, isn’t it? You hate my voice. I have a terrible voice, I know. You know, we can’t all have naturally smooth singing voices like you—”

“It’s Jongdae.”

Jongin blinks. “What?”

“It’s Jongdae. He’s walking right towards me.”

Jongin looks up to see an handsome man with high cheekbones and a sharp blazer approaching them, accompanied by his equally attractive partner. The forgotten guitar riffs continue to blare from the speaker behind them.

“How are you, Kyungsoo?” the man Jongin assumes to be Jongdae asks with a gentle smile, and Kyungsoo swallows hard before responding.

“Fine, fine.”

“This is Kim Minseok,” Jongdae gestures to the man beside him. “Do Kyungsoo.”

“Minseok,” Kyungsoo stiffly greets, shaking the man’s hand before lapsing back into silence. Jongdae glances between him and Jongin expectantly.

“Kim Jongin, this is Kim Jongin,” he finally says. “Kim Jongdae and Minseok.”

“Hi,” Jongin says with as much warmth as he can muster despite the ice pricking at his heart.

“Nice to meet you,” Jongdae smiles in return. It’s a terrible moment. Kyungsoo looks as if he’s about to faint. “Well, see you,” he says after an unbearable second of awkwardness, waving slightly at them both.

“Yeah. Bye, Minseok,” Kyungsoo manages, watching the couple walk away. Jongin’s heart breaks just looking at his friend. 

“You okay?”

“I’m perfect,” Kyungsoo quips, looking very much like a cartoon character that’s just been struck on the head with a mallet. “He looked weird, he looked very weird. Didn’t you think he looked weird?”

“I’ve never seen him before.”

“Trust me, he looked weird. His legs looked heavier, too. Didn’t you think? He’s retaining water.”

“Kyungsoo.”

“What? The man saved everything.”

They end up visiting the plant store in the end, and Jongin pays for a potted fern as Kyungsoo stares blankly into a ficus. “You sure you’re okay?” Jongin asks again, thick brows drawing together as he looks at the shorter man.

“I’m fine. It had to happen at some point. In a city of eight million people you’re bound to run into your ex-husband. So it happened. And now I’m fine.” Jongin raises an eyebrow but nods, leading the way out of the store and back onto the street. “I mean, it was like a catharsis. I looked death in the face and shook its hand. And now I feel great. I really feel okay.”

—

“It works for me. It says  _‘home,’”_ Chanyeol insists as Baekhyun groans and runs his hands through his hair.

“Okay, okay; we’ll let Jongin and Soo be the judge,” Baekhyun turns to Jongin with pleading eyes. “What do  _you_ think of it?”

Jongin and Kyungsoo both look at the object in question: a large wagon wheel that’s been made into a coffee table via a round plate of glass on the top. “It’s nice,” Kyungsoo shrugs, and Chanyeol grins victoriously. 

“Case closed.”

“Of course  _he_ thinks it’s nice! Jongin?”

Jongin glances between his best friend and the table before crinkling his nose and subtly shaking his head.

“Ha! See?”

“What’s so awful about it?” Chanyeol whines.

“It’s so awful that there is no way to begin to explain what is so awful about it.”

“I don’t object to any of  _your_ things—”

“Look, if we had an extra room, you could put it in there with all your things, including your bar stools, and I would never have to see it—”

“You don’t like my bar stools?” Chanyeol gasps, stricken. Baekhyun looks at him. Of  _course_  he doesn’t like his bar stools. Chanyeol groans and turns to Kyungsoo for help, spotting his best friend now draped over a lone chair by the window, staring out like a forlorn figure in a Magritte painting.

“Kyungsoo?” he says, sighing when he doesn’t get a response. “Someone has to be on my side.”

“I’m on your side,” Baekhyun insists, grabbing his boyfriend’s arm and clinging to it. “I’m just trying to help you have good taste.”

“I have good taste.”

“Everyone in the world thinks they have a sense of humor and good taste but they don't all—”

Baekhyun stops talking when Kyungsoo suddenly stands up, looking angrily around the room.

“You know, we started out like this,” he says calmly, waving his hand around at the plethora of unpacked boxes. “Jongdae and I. We had blank walls. We hung things. We looked at swatches. And do you know what happens? Six years later you wind up singing Roger’s part of  _‘What You Own’_  in front of  _Minseok_!”

His voice rises sharply, and Jongin takes a small step forward. “Kyungsoo, I know you're upset, but do we have to talk about this right now?”

“What’s wrong with right now? It’s the perfect time to talk about this,” the elder growls, becoming more and more upset. “I just want them to see the realities of what this leads to. Everything’s fine, everybody’s in love, everybody’s happy— and before you know it, you’re going to be screaming at each other over who owns this dish! This eight dollar dish will cost you a thousand dollars in phone calls to the law firm of that’s mine and this is yours.” 

He’s shouting now, and Baekhyun instinctually shrinks back into Chanyeol as the taller wraps an arm around his shoulders. “I mean it!  _Put your name in your books—”_

“Kyungsoo—”

“— _now,_  while you’re unpacking them, before they get all mixed up together and you can’t remember whose is whose. Because someday, believe it or not, you’re going to be fighting over who’s going to get this coffee table. This  _stupid,_ Roy Rogers, garage sale, wagon wheel coffee table!”

“I thought you liked it,” Chanyeol frowns as Kyungsoo makes his way to the door.

“I was being nice!” Kyungsoo yells before storming out and slamming the door behind him. The silence hanging over the room is thick and humid, and Jongin offers the bewildered couple a small smile in apology.

“He just bumped into Jongdae,” he explains before sighing and going after Kyungsoo, leaving Chanyeol and Baekhyun alone.

“I want you to know,” Baekhyun says after a moment, tilting his head to look up into the younger’s eyes with sincerity, “that I will  _never_ want that wagon wheel coffee table.”

—

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t have done that,” Kyungsoo sighs as he paces in front of the stoop, Jongin slowly walking  down the steps. 

“Kyungsoo, you have to find a way of not expressing every feeling you have every moment you have them.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. There are times and places for things.”

“Well, when you’re giving your next lecture series in social graces, let me know. I’ll sign up.”

Jongin scowls at him. “You don’t gave to get angry about it.”

“I think I’m entitled to a little anger when I’m being told how to live my life by Mister Hospital Corners.”

“You’re about to cross the line, Kyungsoo.”

“So what? Is that the end of the world? Crossing the line?” Kyungsoo steps up to the younger, and despite Jongin’s advantage in height, he feels small. “You know what your problem is? You stand too far behind the line. I don’t think you can even  _see_ the line from where you’re standing,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jongin demands indignantly.

“I mean nothing bothers you! You never get upset about anything!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he huffs, stepping around Kyungsoo and folding his arms.

“What? You never get upset about Sehun. I never see it back up on you. How is that possible? Don’t you experience any feelings of loss?”

“I’ve experienced my loss!” Jongin shouts back, turning to face him again. “I’ve had my mourning period! I’m done with it!”

“What mourning period? One hour in Nordstrom. You bought a new watch and heartbreak flew right out the window.”

“I don’t have to take this from you,” Jongin hisses, storming back into the building with Kyungsoo on his heels.

“If you’re so over Sehun, why haven’t you been seeing anyone?”

“I see people!” Jongin snaps, turning and storming onto the street once again.

“See people? Let me ask you something. Have you slept with  _one_ person since you broke up with Sehun?”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Jongin screams, glaring at Kyungsoo with angry tears pricking at his eyes. “That will prove I’m over Sehun? Because I  _fuck_ somebody? Kyungsoo, you’re gonna have to move back to New Jersey because you’ve slept with everybody in New York, and I don’t see that turning Jongdae into a faint memory for you! Besides, I’ll make love to someone when it’s  _making love,_ not the way you do it, like you’re out for revenge or something!”

“Are you finished now?” Kyungsoo says softly, watching Jongin’s shoulders rise and fall with heavy breaths.

“Yes.”

“Then can I say something?”

Jongin takes a deep breath. “…yes.”

“I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo breathes, pulling the younger into a bone-crushing hug. “I’m sorry…”

Jongin lets his eyes close as he wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s muscular back, willing the residual tension in his shoulders to dissipate. “It’s alright. Come on, we should go back inside.”

Kyungsoo nods and takes his hand, and Jongin squeezes it reassuringly before leading the way back into the building. Chanyeol comes out before they can get in the door, hauling the wagon wheel behind him.

“Don’t say a word,” he pouts as he rolls it to the curb.

—

“It’s a monkey, it’s a monkey!” Chanyeol shouts. “Monkey see, monkey do!”

Jongin exasperatedly shakes his head no and keeps feverishly drawing on the pictionary board.

“An ape? Going ape.”

“It’s a baby!” Tao says, and Jongin excitedly points to him and writes the word “baby” on the paper before continuing to draw.

“Planet of the Apes!”

“Planet of the Apes?” Kyungsoo says, reaching a leg over to kick Chanyeol. “He already said it’s a baby. How about planet of the dopes.”

“Well it doesn’t  _look_ like a baby.”

“Thirty seconds,” calls Yifan, raising a defined eyebrow as he watches his date frantically draw arrows coming out of the baby’s mouth. 

“Big mouth, baby mouth, big baby mouth,” Kyungsoo and Tao guess, their words overlapping. “Martha Raye as a baby. Baby teeth, baby spittle, spit on a baby, baby burp. Burp the baby.”

“Baby ape!”

“Will you forget ape? It’s not an ape!”

“Baby fish, baby fish mouth!”

Kyungsoo shoots Chanyeol a look that could kill.

“Ten seconds.”

“Crying baby! Feed the baby, baby food!”

“Oh my god, Jongin, draw  _something_ resembling  _anything.”_

“The baby’s crying because it’s wet and needs to be changed, it’s an unhappy baby it’s a…”

“That’s it. Time’s up,” Yifan calls. Jongin groans.

_“Baby talk!”_

“Baby talk? What’s that? That’s not a saying!” Chanyeol complains.

“Oh, but ‘baby fish mouth’ is sweeping the nation,” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes.

“Final score: our team, 110, you guys, sixty,” Baekhyun announces.

“I’m a terrible artist,” Jongin sighs, putting his marker down as Yifan gets up to wraps his arms around him.

“No,” the elder insists, smiling down at his boyfriend. “That’s a baby, and it’s clearly talking.” He presses a soft kiss to Jongin’s lips, and Kyungsoo glances away. “You’re wonderful.”

“Anybody for coffee? Baekhyun asks, pushing himself up off the floor as his guests chime their assent. 

“I’ll help you,” Jongin volunteers, smiling up at Yifan before following his best friend into the kitchen.

“It never looked like a baby to me,” Chanyeol grumbles.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Yixing asks, gracefully lifting himself off the carpet and straightening his clothes.

“Down the hall, to the right,” Baekhyun says before disappearing into the kitchen. Yixing leans down and presses a kiss to Kyungsoo’s lips before heading down the hallway, and Jongin pretends not to notice.

“Chanyeol, you were going to show me the cover art for your new book,” Kyungsoo says when he’s finished watching his date walk away. 

“Yeah, it’s in the den,” Chanyeol stands and leads the way into the next room.

“…does Yifan seem a little stuffy to you?” Kyungsoo half-whispers once they’ve got some semblance of privacy. 

“He’s a good guy,” Chanyeol says as he opens his laptop. You should talk to him, get to know him.”

“He’s too tall to talk to,” Kyungsoo says bitterly.

—

“Yixing’s a little young for Kyungsoo, don’t you think?”

“He’s young, but look what he’s done,” Baekhyun replies as he fills the coffee machine with water.

“What has he done? He makes sweets. Kyungsoo doesn’t even like sweets.”

“Yifan’s great,” Baekhyun changes the subject with a smirk.

“I know. He’s a grownup,” Jongin sighs, leaning against the counter. “I’ve never been with a grownup.”

“Mmm hmm.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M ahead!

 

_(some months later)_

 

Kyungsoo glances away from his laptop as his phone vibrates in his pocket, Jongin’s smiling face lighting up the screen.

“Hello?”

“Are you alone?” Jongin’s voice floats through the filter.

“Yeah, I was just getting ready for bed. Why?”

“Could you come over?” Jongin asks, and this time, Kyungsoo can hear a strain in his voice.

“What’s the matter?”

“He’s getting married,” Jongin sniffs, and Kyungsoo frowns.

“Yifan?”

“No, Sehun!” Jongin sobs, and Kyungsoo immediately shuts his laptop.

“I’m on my way.”

He makes it to Jongin’s apartment in record time, ringing the bell and rocking on his feet as he waits for it to open. The hot mess who opens the door is so unlike the composed, put-together young man he’s known for ten years that he’s almost taken aback, but one look at Jongin’s messy hair, swollen eyes, and red nose replaces all traces of shock with empathetic pain.

“Come on in,” Jongin says, wiping fresh tears on the back of his hand and leaning into Kyungsoo when he pulls him into a tight hug. “I’m s-sorry to call you so late…”

“It’s okay,” Kyungsoo assures him, gently rubbing circles into the younger’s back as Jongin sobs into his shoulder.

“He just called me up, just wanted to see how you were. Fine, how are you, fine…” Jongin’s voice borders on hysterical, and Kyungsoo offers him a kleenex from the end table in the living room as he follows him to his bedroom. “His secretary’s on vacation, everything’s all backed up, he’s got a big case in Newark, blah blah blah,” another sob, “and I’m sitting on the phone thinking I’m over him, I really am over him, I can’t believe I was ever remotely interested in any of this…” Another wave of fresh tears spill over. “And then he said, I have some news…”

Kyungsoo doesn’t speak, only listens with gentle eyes and the box of kleenex ready in his hand when Jongin reaches for it again. “And it’s a  _girl._ She works in his office. Her name is Kimberly.” Jongin wails. “He just met her! She’s supposed to be his transitional person, she’s not supposed to be the  _one!”_ Jongin sits heavily onto his bed, hiccuping as his voice drops into a heartbreakingly soft tone. “All this time I’ve been saying he didn’t want to get married… the truth is he didn’t want to marry  _me,”_ he looks up at Kyungsoo through his tears. “He didn’t love me.”

“If you could have him back right now, would you take him back?” Kyungsoo asks as he sits beside Jongin with the box of tissues.

“No,” Jongin chokes out, “But why didn’t he want to marry me? Why didn’t he love me? What’s the matter with  _me?”_

“Nothing,” Kyungsoo says with a small smile.

“I’m difficult.”

“You’re challenging.”

“I’m too structured, I’m completely closed off.”

“Yeah, but in a good way.”

“No, no, I drove him away!” Jongin weeps, trembling even more now. “And I’m going to be forty!”

“When?”

“Someday!”

“In eight years.”

“But it’s there! It’s just  _sitting_ there like a big dead end!” Jongin grabs another tissue from Kyungsoo’s box. “It’s not the same for men. Charlie Chaplin had babies when he was 73.”

“Yeah, but he was too old to pick them up.”

That earns Kyungsoo a weak laugh that breaks back into sobs after a few seconds. “C’mere, c’mere…”

Kyungsoo gives Jongin another hug, gently petting the younger’s hair as he cries. “I’m making a mess on your sweater…”

“It wasn’t one of my favorites anyways,” Kyungsoo smiles, pressing a soft, brief kiss to Jongin’s lips. “Why don’t I make you some tea, hm?”

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin sniffs as he starts to get up, clinging to his sleeve. “Could you just hold me a little longer?”

“Of course,” says Kyungsoo, wrapping his arms around Jongin and cradling the crying boy to his chest. It takes a minute and a few deep breaths, but Jongin’s sobs eventually subside.

Jongin looks up at him through his lashes then, locking gazes with Kyungsoo for a few long moments before slowly leaning up again and connecting their lips in a kiss that’s far too long to be considered platonic. It catches Kyungsoo off guard, but he returns it, letting his hands fall to Jongin’s waist as the younger kisses him with slowly increasing hunger and need. His face is still a mess of snot and tears, but Kyungsoo can’t care in the slightest as he feels Jongin’s hands gently trailing up his neck and into his hair.

It’s not until Jongin pushes him onto his back atop the down comforter that Kyungsoo gently pushes his face away to look into his eyes.

“Nini, are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Jongin breathes, kiss-swollen lips slightly parted as he catches his breath. “I’m sure, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t object anymore because Jongin’s lips feel really nice against his, and he allows his hands to explore the smooth expanse of his back as he drags his shirt up. The younger seems to have a similar idea, his slender fingers taking their time in feeling every curve of Kyungsoo’s biceps. The feeling of Jongin straddling his hips is familiar yet foreign, but nothing but pleasant, and Kyungsoo allows his lips to wander down the blonde’s neck as Jongin presses himself closer. 

“You’re always so good to me,” Jongin whispers as he pulls Kyungsoo’s sweater up and over his head. “You’re always here.”

“I’m always here,” Kyungsoo breathes, letting his head fall back onto the pillow when Jongin starts peppering kisses down his chest. “Always, Jongin.”

He feels a prick of anxiety in his chest as more and more clothes disappear because this isn’t just somebody he’s about to fuck, this is  _Jongin. His_ Jongin. Kyungsoo knows him better than he knows himself, and the pressure to satisfy is almost overwhelming. “You’re thinking too much,” Jongin chastises softly, kissing the elder’s jaw as his fingers curl around his rigid cock. “Stop it, okay? I want you.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo breathes, willing his thoughts to subside as he switches their positions so he’s hovering over the younger. Jongin’s even more stunning naked, and Kyungsoo indulges himself with a few moments of open staring.

“Stop it,” Jongin blushes, squirming under Kyungsoo’s heavy gaze, and it’s so cute that Kyungsoo can’t help but duck down for another kiss.

“Can’t help it,” he mutters, running a hand up the inside of one of Jongin’s strong thighs. “You have lube somewhere?”

“The drawer,” Jongin points, and Kyungsoo pulls away long enough to fetch the bottle and a condom from the bedside drawer.

Kyungsoo’s well hung for a guy of such short stature, and Jongin does a little staring of his own as Kyungsoo slicks three his fingers in preparation. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises, and Jongin can see him swallow when he spreads his legs invitingly. 

The first finger doesn’t bother him but the second one stings. Kyungsoo is  _very_ good with his hands, however, and experienced digits coax Jongin open as painlessly as possible until Jongin is whining and grinding down for more.

“You’re sure you’re ready for this?” Kyungsoo asks once more as he rolls on his condom, and Jongin groans.

 _“Yes_  I’m ready, you jerk. Hurry up and take me; I want to see what all the fuss is about.”

Kyungsoo grins at the challenge in the younger’s eyes, leaning down for another kiss before pushing into Jongin in one clean stroke. Jongin gasps at the feeling, it’s been  _so_ long since he’s slept with anyone but Sehun, moaning to the ceiling and pressing his fingernails into the muscles of Kyungsoo’s back.

“Oh my god, yes…”

Kyungsoo takes his time, making sure to map out every inch of Jongin’s body with his fingertips as he thrusts into him, driving him absolutely wild. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the way Jongin’s voice sounds as he nears his climax, gasping and begging for more as his hands grapple for something to hold onto. A memory stirs of Jongin demonstrating how easy it is to exaggerate an orgasm in a diner months prior. This sounds different than it sounded then.

Jongin comes with Kyungsoo’s name on his lips, and Kyungsoo swallows it in a kiss so fierce it has Jongin trembling by the time Kyungsoo fills his condom with a groan of his own. Jongin glows, vaguely beaming up at the ceiling as Kyungsoo pulls out and ties it off, snuggling up to the elder as soon as he’s done and letting sleep take over.

—

When Jongin wakes the next morning, the clock on his bedside table reads 6:24, and the other side of the bed is empty. He rolls over and finds Kyungsoo pulling his clothes back on. 

“Where are you going?” he asks, his voice sounding too loud in the quiet room. Kyungsoo looks over at the sound of it and gives him a little smile.

“I gotta go.”

Jongin stares at him.

“I have to go home and change my clothes and go to work, and so do you,” he continues. “And after work, I’d like to take you out to dinner if you’re free. Are you free?”

“Yes,” Jongin says, panic slowly seeping in as he realizes what he’s done.

“Fine. I’ll text you later.”

“Fine.”

Kyungsoo gives him a kiss on the forehead before disappearing through the door, leaving Jongin alone in bed.

—

Baekhyun wakes with a start at the sound of a phone ringing, looking at the time with disbelief. “Yours,” Chanyeol grumbles accusingly beside him when he doesn’t answer right away, and Baekhyun reaches over to pick up the call.

“Hello?”

 _“I’m sorry to call so early,”_  Jongin’s shaky voice comes through the filter, and Baekhyun immediately sits up.

“Are you alright?”

_“I did something terrible.”_

“No one  _I_ know would call at this hour,” Chanyeol says, pulling the blankets over his head. Baekhyun ignores him.

“What did you do?”

Chanyeol’s phone rings then, and Chanyeol pushes the covers down to glare at it.

“No one I know would call at this hour,” he repeats as he picks up.

 _“Yeol, I think the depth of our friendship implies a call-at-any-hour policy,”_  comes Kyungsoo’s voice.

 _“It’s so awful,”_  says Jongin.  _“Kyungsoo came over last night…”_

“What’s the matter?”

_“I went over to Jongin’s last night…”_

_“…because I was upset that Sehun was getting married…”_

_“…and one thing led to another…”_

_“… and he was comforting me and before I knew it we were kissing… and then…”_

_“…to make a long story short…”_

_“…we did it.”_

_“…we did it.”_

Baekhyun covers his mouthpiece to turn and whisper  _“they did it!”_  to Chanyeol at the same time Chanyeol turns to whisper the same thing to him.

“That’s great, Jongin,” Baekhyun smiles, and Chanyeol nods to himself.

“We’ve been praying for it.”

“You should have done it in the first place.”

“For months Baek and I have been saying, if only they would do it.”

“You belong together.”

“It would be like killing two birds with one stone.”

“It’s like two wrongs make a right.”

“That’s great.”

“How was it?” they ask in unison, turning to look at each other again with raised eyebrows.

 _“The during part was good…”_  Kyungsoo hesitates.

 _“I thought it was good…”_ begins Jongin.

_“…but after, I started feeling suffocated.”_

_“…but then I guess it wasn’t.”_

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Chanyeol leans back against the pillows.

“The worst,” Baekhyun sympathizes.

_“I just wanted to get out of there.”_

_“It was like he just disappeared.”_

_“I feel terrible.”_

_“I’m so embarrassed.”_

“You should feel terrible.”

“That’s horrible.”

_“I think I’m coming down with something.”_

_“I think I’m catching a cold.”_

“Look, it would have been great if it worked, but it didn’t.” Chanyeol says.

“You should never go to bed with anyone…”

_“Tell me about it.”_

“…when you’ve just found out your last boyfriend is getting married,” says Baekhyun.

“Now you have a really cosmic mess on your hands.”

 _“I knew if I called you you’d make me feel better,”_ Kyungsoo drawls sarcastically.

“It’s always a mistake,” Baekhyun adds.

 _“Who’s that talking?”_ Kyungsoo asks. Chanyeol glances at Baekhyun.

“Who?”

 _“Is that Chanyeol on the phone?”_ asks Jongin, and Baekhyun shakes his head despite the fact that Jongin can’t see him.

“No, it’s just the TV.”

“No, I just have the news on.”

“Do you want to come over for breakfast?” they ask at the same time before turning to look at each other with matching horrified expressions.

_“I’m not really up to it.”_

_“I feel too awful.”_

“Good,” Chanyeol and Baekhyun both sigh with relief.

“I mean, it’s so early,” Baekhyun quickly amends.

“Look, call me later if you want to talk.”

“I’ll call you later okay?”

Baekhyun sighs and lies back down in Chanyeol’s arms as soon as they both hang up. “God.”

“I know,” Chanyeol says, pulling him closer and closing his eyes again. Baekhyun tilts his head back to look up at him.

“Tell me I’ll never have to be out there again.”

Chanyeol opens his eyes and smiles, gently stroking his fiancé’s cheek with a calloused thumb.

“You’ll never have to be out there again,” he promises before pressing a soft kiss to the elder’s lips.

—

“I’ll just say we made a mistake,” Jongin says to his mirror.

“Jongin, it was a mistake,” Kyungsoo says to himself as the shower spray works the tension out of his back.

 _I just hope I get to say it first,_ Jongin thinks, eyeing his hairdo and deeming it acceptable.

_I hope he says it before I do._

Jongin takes a deep breath as the waiter brings his and Kyungsoo’s drinks to the table that evening.

“It was a mistake.”

“I am  _so_ glad you think so too,” Kyungsoo exhales, leaning forward. “I mean, I’m not saying last night wasn’t great,” he quickly adds, seeing the younger’s vaguely insulted expression.

“It was,” Jongin nods, taking a sip of his water. 

“Yes, it was.”

“We just never should have done it.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Kyungsoo smiles.

“I’m  _so_ relieved,” Jongin laughs after a beat of quiet.

“Me too.”

The waiter brings their salads shortly after that, and they begin to eat in silence.

“It’s so nice when you can sit with someone and not have to talk. It just shows how comfortable you really are,” Kyungsoo says to fill the uncomfortable silence after several minutes go by without talking.

Jongin nods as he takes another bite, not quite meeting Kyungsoo’s eyes.

 


	8. Eight (Final)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everyone who's read and enjoyed this fic. I hope I did the film justice. After you read this chapter, you can rent the movie [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6I9bILPjOUY) if you like (there are scenes that I couldn't fit into this story!). i love all of you <3

 “Is Kyungsoo bringing Yixing to the wedding?” Jongin asks casually, fiddling with his phone in his lap as he waits for Baekhyun to change.

“They broke up,” comes the elder’s voice, and Jongin tries not to sound too interested in the response.

“Is he seeing anyone?”

“He was seeing this anthropologist.”

“What did he look like?”

“Tall. Blue eyes. Classically handsome. Your basic nightmare,” Baekhyun says as he steps out from behind the partition, clad in a grey tuxedo that fits him to the nines. “So what do you think?” he asks shyly. Jongin looks up at him and places a hand over his heart.

“Oh, Baekhyun…”

“Tell the truth,” Baekhyun sighs, turning to face the tall mirror behind him. “I don’t think I’ve worn a monkey suit like this since senior prom or something.”

“It’s absolutely stunning,” Jongin says sincerely, tears threatening to well up in his eyes at the way his best friend’s reflection almost seems to glow with happiness. “You look perfect.”

The ceremony is breathtaking, but Jongin would expect nothing less. Baekhyun always talked about wanting a winter wedding, and Jongin can see his influence in the boughs of pine and holly that bedeck the ballroom. When the time comes for Jongin, Baekhyun’s best man, to walk down the aisle with Kyungsoo, Chanyeol’s best man, they both make sure to do it with smiles on their faces for the sake of their best friends despite the tension that crackles between them.

“Hi,” Kyungsoo approaches him later during the reception, raising his voice slightly over the music pounding from the dance floor.

“Hello,” Jongin greets stiffly, watching the increasingly tipsy pair of newlyweds grind on a very annoyed and sober Zitao.

“Nice ceremony,” Kyungsoo comments, moving to stand beside Jongin and watch the dancers.

“Beautiful.”

“Boy, the holidays are rough,” Kyungsoo tries again after a moment of uncomfortable silence. “Every year I just try to get from the day before Thanksgiving to the day after New Year’s.”

“A lot of suicides,” Jongin nods. Kyungsoo nods.

“Would you like a pea pod with shrimp?” a waiter swings by with a tray of hors d’oeuvres, and Jongin smiles at him with all the warmth he’s pointedly not showing Kyungsoo.

“Thank you,” he happily takes one.

“How’ve you been?” Kyungsoo asks after another few seconds.

“Fine.”

“How’re things with Yifan?”

Jongin looks at him. “Kyungsoo.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Is it because of what happened?”

“I  _don’t_  want to talk about it,” Jongin repeats.

“Why can’t we get past this? I mean, are we gonna carry this thing around forever?”

“Forever?” Jongin asks with disbelief. “It just happened!”

“It happened three weeks ago!”

Jongin stares at him.

“You know how a year to a person is like seven years to a dog?” Kyungsoo asks.

“Yes.”

Kyungsoo throws his hands up as if that clarifies it all. Jongin blinks and crosses his arms.

“Is one of us supposed to be a  _dog_ in this scenario?”

“Yep.”

“Who is the dog?”

“You are.”

“I am? I’m the dog?”

“Yes.”

“I’m the dog. I’m—” Jongin cuts himself off when he notices people starting to stare and marches to the door leading into the hall, gesturing for Kyungsoo to follow him.

“I don’t see that, Kyungsoo. If anyone’s a dog,  _you_ are the dog,” he spits once they have some semblance of privacy. “To you this is something that just happened and you think you can say ‘great, it happened, now let’s get on with it, we’ll go back to the way it was, like what happened didn’t mean anything—’”

“I’m not saying it didn’t mean anything, I’m just saying why does it have to mean  _everything?”_ Kyungsoo interrupts.

“Because it  _does!”_  Jongin looks at him with wide eyes full of anger and hurt. “And you should know that better than anyone because the minute it happens you walk right out the door!”

“I didn’t walk out, I—”

“No,  _sprinted_  is more like it!”

“But we both agreed it was a mistake!” Kyungsoo follows Jongin as he storms in the direction of the kitchen.

“The worst mistake I ever made!”

“It’s always the same, it’s always the same!” Kyungsoo shouts over the din of the kitchen. “The minute you make love to someone the expectations start.”

“First of all, I’m not ‘someone,’” Jongin snarls back. “And second of all, I don’t expect anything from you.”

“Bullshit. You expect me to know how to behave with you now—”

“You don’t have to behave any way with me now, okay?”

“Fine, fine, but let’s get one thing straight. I did  _not_ go over there that night to make love to you. That’s not why I went there. But what was I supposed to do? You looked at me with those big, weepy eyes. ‘Don’t go home tonight, Kyungsoo. Hold me a little longer, Kyungsoo.’”

“What are you saying, you took  _pity_ on me?” Jongin gasps. Kyungsoo opens his mouth to say something else, but Jongin doesn’t give him the chance. “Fuck you!” The crack of Jongin’s palm echoes as it connects with Kyungsoo’s cheek, and Kyungsoo stands for a second in shock as Jongin whirls around and heads back to the party.

Chanyeol is clinking a fork against a glass as Kyungsoo chases Jongin back into the reception, and both of them come to a stop as the attention of the room is focused on the taller of the grooms. 

“I want to propose a toast to Jongin and Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol grins across the room at them, and a hundred heads turn to follow his gaze. “To Jongin and Kyungsoo,” he raises his glass. “If Baekhyun and I had found either of them remotely attractive, we would not be here today.”

The crowd laughs, and Jongin musters a small smile as the guests raise their glasses to him and the man behind him. Baekhyun steals a bouquet of flowers from Chanyeol’s sister and throws it straight in Jongin’s direction. He considers letting it fall at his feet, but reaches out and catches it at the last minute, much to his best friend’s delight.

—

_“Hi, it’s me. It’s the holiday season. This doesn’t happen to be my holiday, but I thought I might remind you that this is a season of forgiveness and charity, so if you felt like calling me back, it would make me a very happy person.”_

_“Hey Jongin, it’s me again. You’re not answering, so that either means that A, you’re busy, B, you’re not busy but don’t want to talk to me, or C, you desperately want to talk to me, but you’re trapped under something heavy and can’t reach your cell.”_ Jongin smiles a little despite himself as he listens to Kyungsoo’s voicemail.  _“If it’s A or C, call me back.”_  there’s a click, and a recorded voice tells Jongin that’s the end of his new messages. He sighs and hangs up.

Jongin groans when his phone starts loudly ringing in his pocket as he’s in the process of hauling a load of groceries to his door. He sets the bags down in favor of fishing his phone out of his pocket to silence it, but hesitates when he sees the elder’s name on the screen. He finally accepts the call on the seventh ring, taking a deep breath before saying,

“Hi, Kyungsoo.”

“Jongin, hey, hi,” Kyungsoo fumbles, clearly shocked that the younger received his call. “I didn’t think you were going to… hi… what are you doing?”

“I’m just getting home.”

“Where from?”

There’s a beat of silence on Jongin’s end of the line. “What do you want, Kyungsoo?” he finally asks.

“Nothing. I just called to say… what are you doing for New Year’s? Are you going to the Tyler’s party?” He’s met with silence on the other end. “Do you have a date?” he continues, pacing his apartment. “Cause I don't have a date and if you don’t have a date, we always said that if neither of us had a date on New Year’s…”

“Kyungsoo, I can’t do this anymore.” Jongin cuts him off. “I am not your consolation prize. Goodbye.”

Kyungsoo freezes where he stands, listening to the mocking sound of the dial tone as Jongin hangs up.

—

 _What’s so bad about this?_ Kyungsoo wonders, Ryan Seacrest’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve lighting up his television as he pops another potato chip in his mouth.  _This is much better than being out on at some party with the rest of the world tonight._

His thoughts drift to last year’s New Year’s Eve and the memory of Jongin’s laughing face as he twirled him around the dance floor.  _“Do you think the fact that we’re friends is keeping us from finding someone?”_  Jongin had asked.

 _“Yes. So I think we should stop being friends, go home right now, and make love,”_ was his response.

 _“You don’t mean that,”_  Jongin had giggled.  _“You know you don’t mean that.”_

“Air,” he mutters to himself as his thoughts begin to wander. “Air would be good right now.”

The streets are eerily quiet, but Kyungsoo finds himself not minding, rather enjoying the rare peace.  _This is good,_  he thinks.  _New Year’s resolution #1, I gotta do this more often. Window shopping. All the fun and none of the expense._

Kyungsoo eventually finds himself wandering through Washington Square, and a poignant memory surfaces from eleven years earlier when Jongin had dropped him off in this very spot in 2006. They had bickered all the way from Chicago to here, and Kyungsoo had thought that when Jongin drove away, he would be gone for good. He thinks now about what his life would become if Jongin really does leave it, subconsciously clenching his fists at his sides.

The icy midnight air stings Kyungsoo’s skin. 

He starts to run.

—

Jongin finally locates Baekhyun and Chanyeol minutes to midnight, the massive New Year’s Eve party almost at its climax. “I’m going home,” he tells them, raising his voice over the din.

“What? But it’s almost midnight!” Baekhyun objects, grabbing Jongin’s sleeve when he goes to put on his coat. “You can’t leave now!”

“I can’t stand the thought of not kissing somebody,” Jongin tells him.

“Big deal. I’ll kiss you,” Chanyeol offers with a grin. Jongin gives him a halfhearted smile in return.

“Thanks, Yeol. But I really have to go.”

“Wait two minutes,” Baekhyun begs as Jongin makes his way to the door.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” promises Jongin, pecking his best friend on the cheek before turning to leave.

Kyungsoo bursts into the ballroom nearly drenched in sweat, chest heaving as if he’s just sprinted a mile. Jongin stops dead in his tracks, panic tugging at the edges of his awareness. Kyungsoo catches sight of him and makes a beeline for him, and the younger immediately straightens his spine and lifts his chin.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Kyungsoo says in a rush, “and the thing is, I love you.”

“What?” asks Jongin, shock evident on his face.

“I love you,” Kyungsoo repeats with certainty, looking Jongin straight in the eyes.

“How do you expect me to respond to this?”

“How about you love me, too?”

“How about I’m leaving,” Jongin scowls, walking past Kyungsoo as the countdown to midnight begins, the elder on his heels.

“Doesn’t what I said mean anything to you?”

“What is it supposed to mean?” Jongin whirls around, voice more hurt than angry. “I’m sorry, Kyungsoo. I know it’s New Year’s Eve and I know you’re feeling lonely, but you can’t just show up here and tell me you love me and expect that to make it all right.” The countdown reaches zero, and cheers of  _Happy New Year_ erupt around them along with the sounds of noisemakers and the sound of people singing. “I mean, what am I supposed to say? Great, Kyungsoo, you love me; that settles everything, now we can waltz off into the sunset together? It doesn’t work this way.”

“Well, how does it work?”

“I don’t know, but not this way.”

Kyungsoo regards him for a moment with an intensity in his eyes that Jongin hasn’t seen before.

“How about this way,” he says after a beat, raising his voice a bit over the joyful music swelling from the party. “I love how you get cold when it’s 71 degrees out. I love how it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that little crinkle you get on your forehead when you’re looking at me like I’m nuts,” he points. “I love that after spending the day with you I can still smell your cologne on my clothes, and I love how you’re the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. It took me eleven years to figure this out, and I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want your life to start as soon as possible!”

Jongin stares at him, tears of fury swimming in his eyes. “See, that’s just like you, Kyungsoo. You say things like that, and you make it impossible for me to hate you. And I hate you,” he starts to cry. “I really hate you, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo closes the distance between them and catches Jongin’s lips in a long, passionate kiss that feels as if it’s the very cause of the fireworks exploding outside. Jongin melts into him, and the partygoers continue to sing  _Auld Lang Syne_ as Kyungsoo presses him as close as he can. 

“You know, my whole life I have never known what this song means,” Kyungsoo says suddenly when the kiss finally breaks, and Jongin laughs, wiping his tears away.

“I know exactly what you mean.”

“I mean, ‘should old acquaintance be forgot.’ Does that mean we  _should_ forget old acquaintances, or does it mean if we do happen to forget them, we should remember them, which isn’t possible because we forgot them already?”

“Maybe you’re just supposed to remember you forgot them or something,” Jongin giggles, winding his arms around Kyungsoo’s neck. “Anyway, it’s about old friends.”

Kyungsoo smiles and reconnects their lips, kissing the younger for what feels like hours and holding him without the intention of ever letting go again.

—

“The first time we met, we hated each other,” Kyungsoo admits at their wedding three months later.

“You didn’t hate me, I hated you,” Jongin quickly corrects, nudging Kyungsoo in the side and earring laughter from their guests. “And the second time we met he didn’t even remember me.”

“I did too, I remembered you.” Kyungsoo smiles down at the glass in his hand. “The third time we met, we became friends.”

“We were friends for a long time.”

“And then we weren’t.”

“And then we fell in love,” Jongin giggles, linking his arm with his husband’s. “And we couldn’t have found each other without the love and support of all our friends. So let us start by saying this: thank you guys for putting up with us arguing for eleven years.”

“To Jongin and Kyungsoo!” Baekhyun screams, raising his glass, and the rest of the party laughs jovially and follows suit. 

Jongin grins, sitting beside Kyungsoo at their table as Chanyeol gets up to make his best man speech. Kyungsoo finds his hand under the tablecloth, squeezing it tightly and smiling over at the younger with eyes glittering with love. Jongin leans over and presses a gentle kiss to Kyungsoo’s lips.

This is their happily ever after, and they can’t wait for it to finally begin.

 


End file.
